


In the End

by LadyKerby



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-25 18:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3820441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKerby/pseuds/LadyKerby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was started just after 2x18, and I let my mind run wild. With the viewing of 2x19, I changed a few things :)<br/>I do not own the characters, nor do I profit from this, only a hobby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Now

Lizzie had just spent the last forty-eight agonizing hours listening to her ex-husband, Tom Keen, a habitual liar, spew out what she thought were slanders against Raymond Reddington. Tom tried convincing her that the passports she had found in their home, the gun and the money, were all from Reddington. He explained how he had been set up by one of Red’s old contacts to be at a hotel at a certain time so to have his picture taken, making it seem as if he had been present when a crime was committed. Tom still insisted that Reddington had framed him. Lizzie on the other hand, was not really buying into anything that Tom had been telling her. He had not given Liz any real reason to trust him anymore. Their entire marriage, of just two measly years had been nothing but a lie. Tom was no schoolteacher he was a double agent and playing school was merely recess for him.

 

Although the day was sunny, yet chilled, nothing new for DC in the wintertime, it still felt as though a dark storm cloud was looming over her, and anyone else she came into contact with. She was lost in thought, her mind whirling, going over everything Tom had said to her, trying to make sense of it all as she drove, well above the speed limit, to the rendezvous point where Reddington had agreed to meet her.

 

As she approached the area, she couldn’t help but notice that it was vacant, no cars, no people, stillness; she threw her Escalade into park, and got out. Everything was cloaked in silence, but it was no ordinary silence; it was eerie, like walking into an old ghost town. She reached across the front seats and picked up her purse with the black box inside. Then she saw Dembe and Reddington step out of their black Mercedes Maybach. Reddington had a stressed and rather pained look on his worn face; she had seen this look before, when something had gone south with a contact or some business deal he was involved in. His eyes seemed to be almost pleading with her, crying out for understanding, as if he instinctively knew what she had learned from Tom. Her anger and confusion were so deep they wrapped her up in a cloak of indifference, and she chose to ignore his signs of distress.

 

“Do you have the fulcrum, Lizzie?” he said quietly, not at all like his normal confident self.

 

She handed him the black box, knowing that it might be a huge mistake, and that if the FBI found out about the fulcrum, and the fact that she had just relinquished it to their fourth most wanted, despite his arrangement with them, she would surely be thrown into jail.

 

Red’s face grew more anguished, clearly knowing that he had put her in a compromising position. “I’m sorry to have to do this, Lizzie. But as I said earlier, this is a true matter of life and death; my life, my survival, my ability to protect you.”

 

“I just hope you get what you want from it.” She was furious and couldn’t keep the emotion out of her voice. “Can you just answer me one thing, TRUTHFULLY? All I want is the truth! I deserve the truth after everything you’ve put me through.”

 

The tension stretched between them. And for a long moment she thought he wasn’t going to say anything, but she wanted answers. She wanted to finally get closure to everything. Who was she? What was she to Raymond Reddington? Who was Tom? And how did he play into the grand scheme of things? So many questions were running around in her head.

 

“I have never lied to you, Lizzie. Never. And I don’t plan on starting now…” he paused before continuing, “If you are wondering about Tom… then yes, I hired him to keep an eye on you; I had to find someone to protect you, at an arms length only. But when I found out that he had become… intimate with you… I was forced to fire him. A confluence of peril had entered your life, and I wanted to be within reach, to have influence. I turned myself into the FBI to point you toward a truth that inevitably you would have to discover for yourself.” His voice trailed off for a moment, then he continued, “I am so sorry to have caused you all of this misery and anguish, Lizzie. Please. Know that I had no intention of your life turning out like this. My dear, Lizzie.”

 

Lizzie stood frozen, dumbfounded by what Red had just revealed to her. Tom had told her half-truths; those that appeared to make himself look good and Red look bad. She was heartbroken, the ONE person she had grown to trust, the only person she had thought she could truly rely on, had been the cause of all that was wrong with her life. He had been the root of everything, the whole reason her life was a shambles.

 

He continued, “It became rather apparent that you were in far worse danger than I had ever anticipated when Tom went to work for Berlin. He was quite willing to pay a handsome price for Tom’s intel on you… and me. I feared for your life. I believe I will always do whatever I feel I have to do to keep you alive, and that includes, but is by no means limited to, turning myself into the FBI.”

 

She could feel her face getting warmer and her blood pressure beginning to rise.

 

“WHAT THE HELL?!? You what? You’re responsible? For all of the pain, the misery, the HELL I have gone through for the last three years? How could you?” She felt so deflated, alone. She wondered who there was left to trust. Tom had lied, and now it appeared that Reddington was admitting to having done the same. Or was he?

 

“Lizzie, please let me explain, you really need to hear me out...” Red pleaded with her.

 

She cut him off. “NO! DAMMIT Reddington! I trusted you!” The only time she called him ‘Reddington’ anymore was when she was angry with him. Like a tide, her anger rose up in her throat again and her voice cracked. “Just go. I’m done.” She turned to walk away when she heard the unexpected shot. It was a sniper shot, she could tell that much.

 

Dembe roared “NO! RAYMOND!”

 

Lizzie swung back around, she watched in horror as Reddington collapsed to the ground. More shots were fired, shooting out the windows in Lizzie’s SUV, and deflating the two passenger side tires. She returned fire, knowing full well that she was not going to hit anyone, or anything, but she just knew she needed to provide cover. She saw that Dembe had been able to drag Red’s body to safety, using the Mercedes as a shield. When she got to the two of them, she heard Dembe muttering what sounded like a prayer in his native language. He grabbed Lizzie’s hands and placed them on Red’s chest, over his heart. There was blood coming from his chest and mouth. She could feel his heartbeat grow weaker with every thump. Everything seemed to go silent around her, as if someone had just set off a flash bomb. She was swimming in thoughts; time felt like it was about to stop forever. 

 

She was frozen, unable to move, or even think.


	2. *77

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation. Red is in surgery and Lizzie is having to deal with Tom.  
> I own nothing, etc etc etc :) Enjoy

Lizzie started to focus on what was going on around her. Dembe looked at her and ordered her to get in the car. She saw the tears streaming down his dark, rugged, chocolate brown cheeks. She looked back down at Reddington and said, “Stay alive you son of a bitch, we are not done here. Not here, not now!” 

They were still under heavy fire from the sniper who was in the building across the street. She reloaded her clip and provided the cover Dembe needed to get Red into the back of the car. He picked Red up and pushed him into the back seat of the Mercedes. Dembe then provided the protection she needed to scramble around to the other side of the car. She slid in and lifted Red’s head gingerly, to lay it on her lap, as she desperately tried to apply as much pressure as she could to the wound. Dembe somehow maneuvered himself into the driver’s seat and got the engine started. He then slammed the vehicle into gear and sped off as bullets continued to hit the car. She was so glad that Reddington had paid the extra to ensure the Mercedes was bulletproof.

She kept her eyes fixed on Red’s. He was groaning in pain. He was trying to talk, but Lizzie wouldn’t let him. “Shhh… Look at me Red, stay awake, stay still,” she whispered tenderly to him. Most of the anger she had felt before the shooting had been replaced by guilt for yelling at him and uncertainty as he lay there in her lap bleeding out.

She overheard Dembe making a call on one of their many burner phones.

“Seventy-seven. My location is Capitol and M. Kate, we need you. It’s Raymond. It’s bad. Where do I take him?”

“Kate?” she thought to herself. What does Mr. Kaplan have up her sleeve? She heard a random address that he repeated twice. 

They arrived at an old abandoned warehouse in the industrial district, just outside the city off Route 295. Lizzie could see Mr. Kaplan, and several armed men near a doorway. She was frantically motioning Dembe to pull in. He drove in carefully and jumped out, yelling information about the shooting to the EMT’s and the doctors. “It was a sniper shot from above, maybe 50 yards out.” 

Paramedics ran to the opposite side of the vehicle from where Lizzie was sitting, swung open the door and swiftly removed Red from her tender grasp and placed him on a gurney. She quickly exited herself, still trying to figure out where it was that Dembe had driven them to. “How did Mr. Kaplan get this set up so quickly? Where did all of these people come from? Who are they?” Lizzie was trying to take everything in and process it. She started to focus and felt her nerves become raw with what she heard. 

“Looks bad . . . right lung punctured . . . possibly the superior vena cava. Is it a clean shot?” The first EMT examined the wound as he spoke.

“I can’t tell from here.” The second EMT was clearly frustrated with his lack of a visual.

“Get a line started, push the fluids. How’s the pulse?” 

“Thready, at best. BP is 98 palp, and dropping!”

“The lung is collapsed” The doctor reported. “I need a chest tube stat!”

“Move faster! Move FASTER. Dammit! He’s going to DIE!” she screamed in her head. 

As they whisked Red through the doors to a makeshift hospital operating room, Lizzie followed close behind the gurney; she could hear Red faintly calling for her. 

“Lizzie.” It was gurgled, blood still in his mouth.

“I’m right here, Red.” She slid past his outstretched hand and came in close so he wouldn’t have to struggle so much to talk.

“Lizzie, I’m sorry … Please forgive me … Lizzie I … I lo…” His words trailed off as he began to fall asleep. The anesthesiologist had already pushed the drugs into him to prepare him for surgery. 

As she backed out of the area she whispered, “I WILL find out who did this, Red. So help me, I will find out who did this!!”

The whole area was papered with plastic sheeting, though there was enough hospital equipment in the room to take care of ten people. Lizzie looked around, sweeping the warehouse with assessing eyes; she was instantly on guard, as the slightest of movement grabbed her instant attention. She surveyed the open warehouse mapping out exits in the off chance they would need them. A door opened and she pulled her service weapon out and up, but lowered it when she saw that it was Mr. Kaplan leading a parade of Red’s team through the warehouse. That made her feel somewhat better, knowing that they had the extra man power to take down anyone who might come after them.

Gazing around, she felt sure she had been here before, but for the life of her, she could not remember when, or under what circumstances. Was it an old case that had brought her here? She was trying to shake the uneasy feeling in her stomach. Her mind was racing. “Who did this? Was this Tom? I just got done meeting with him. He knew that I was going to meet with Red. Did he follow me there? Did he hire someone to make the hit? Who did he hire for the hit? Did Tom fire the shots himself? Was it the Russians? Is he still working for them? Could it have been the cabal?” The questions spun around in her head.

Red had told her that he needed the Fulcrum, and that it was a matter of life and death. He had also told her that Tom’s cover had been blown when they went to extract him from Russia, so he could testify on her behalf. She shook her head, trying to calm herself, and think more clearly. 

Lizzie feeling helpless, angry and needing air, stormed out of the warehouse, only to find Tom in the alley as she came out. She recovered her wits quickly and threw him up against the brick wall, gun pointed under his chin.

“You son of a bitch! Did you do this? Are you the one responsible for shooting Reddington? Are you still in with the Russians? You were the only one that knew we were meeting!! I give you back your stupid passports and this is how you repay me? You will NEVER change!!”

“WHOA! Calm down, Liz! I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tom replied, putting his hands up in the air. 

“I want answers NOW! Reddington is dying in there, and you are the ONLY link!! How is it that I get done talking to you, go to meet Red, and then he gets shot? Right there in the street. Right in front of me. NO one knew about the meeting, except you. Were you following me??! Did you shoot Reddington? Better yet, who did YOU hire to shoot Reddington? I don’t need you trying to protect me! I can protect myself!”

“Look Liz, I don’t know what’s going on. I live here. I was woken up out of a sound sleep to hear people stomping around. It was Mr. Kaplan and her team setting up this makeshift hospital thing. Do you think I like having my ‘home’ ransacked for your precious Raymond Reddington?” Tom explained. He sounded irritated.

Lizzie, was now very confused, and started to lower her gun. She took a couple of deep breaths and waited a moment until she was somewhat calmer. “Why are you even still here. You were supposed to be gone already. You told me you were leaving. I guess we can add that to the long list of ‘Tom’s Lies.’”

Tom’s voice went from angry to malicious. “You know what Liz, I’m trying to have a normal life here. How was I supposed to know that this was one of your buddy Reddington’s many stash-a ways?” Lizzie scoffed at him as he continued. “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do. I wish I could just rid my life of Reddington, but every time I turn around there he is, and there you are, right behind him, following him like a little lost puppy. Did you ever stop to think that he planned this whole shooting … he seems to be so good at hurting you.”

“Why would Red ever plan something like that? I swear, Tom …” shaking her head in disbelief she continued, “there’s NOTHING that comes out of your mouth that I can even begin to trust.” Lizzie replied swinging the gun back at him again. 

“Liz, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, you can’t trust Reddington. I wish you could see all of the lies that he’s fed to you …” 

Lizzie cut him off. “Reddington has NEVER lied to me, unlike you, Tom. And you still haven’t answered me. Did you shoot Reddington? Did you have anything to do with it?” 

“NO! I didn’t shoot him. I didn’t hire anyone either. For as much as I hate Reddington, I’m not going to put a hit out on him. I have nothing to benefit from it. Will you put that gun DOWN?! Are you trying to kill me?! Geez Liz, it’s like you’re blinded by something. What is he to you? What has he ever told you about his connection to you? You seem so naive.” Tom stopped abruptly, as though he had had an epiphany. “LIZ! No! You can’t be. After everything he’s put you through. How many times have you almost died because of his stupid list?” Tom shook his head in disbelief. “You can’t be … LIZ?!? I haven’t really noticed it until now. Are you …” He looked at the ground, shuffling his feet and lowering his voice, “…I n love with Reddington?

“WHAT?!” Lizzie was caught so off guard with Tom’s question, that she nearly dropped her gun. “Where the hell did that question come from? You have got to be kidding, right? How could anyone be in love with someone like Raymond Reddington?” Lizzie started to stumble over her own words as her mind began to race for answers. “I mean, really, Tom, I can’t believe you would even ask something like that. Stop deflecting.”

“Liz, you need to be honest with…”

“I’m not going to continue with this line of questioning, ESPECIALLY from you. I’m done with you Tom. You can leave. Now! And don’t come back! Ever.”

Lizzie turned from Tom and stormed back into the warehouse, desperately searching for some solitude from the day’s developments. She hoped that this time he would really leave … leave and never come back.


	3. Just Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always I own nothing, blah blah blah.  
> My beta "thefirstfewchapters" is absolutely amazing! Thank you for everything!!!

Blinded by her ever-growing rage towards Tom, Lizzie nearly slammed into Dembe as she went back through the warehouse doors.

“How is he doing, Dembe?” He appeared more composed, than when they had first arrived at the warehouse, yet worry still filled his eyes. Red had told her about Dembe, that he had a very close, brotherly connection with him; Red took him in at the age of 14. He told her about how Dembe would literally lay down his life for him, if he knew that it would save him. Lizzie could tell that this was hard for Dembe, one of the very few times, he had not been able to protect Red.

“Better. The bullet was found lodged inside his chest, but Dr. Saunders managed to get it out. It punctured his lung, and nicked his right atrium. He lost a lot of blood, but Dr. Saunders said that he can repair everything. And that Raymond will hopefully make a full recovery.”

Lizzie was so relieved to hear the news. She gave the tall, dark man a hug around his waist; at times she felt like she was hugging a tree trunk, he was so big and solid. “Thank you, Dembe, that is such a relief. How long did the doctor say the surgery would last?”

“A few more hours, at least. He wants to make sure that there are no other internal injuries.” 

“Liz!” Tom was yelling from outside. “We are not done talking.”

“Call me as soon as he comes out of surgery Dembe!” Lizzie pleaded.

Dembe nodded. 

She stormed back out of the warehouse to where Tom was yelling for her. 

As she came out the door, Tom placed himself between her and the warehouse door. “Tom, I’m done with you and your accusations. I’ve enough on my plate right now.” She tried to walk past him, when he grabbed her arm. 

“I’m NOT done with you. I’m NOT going to have you constantly in the line of fire because of Reddington. He’s not worth it. He’s not deserving of a second chance. Has he ever told you about the night of the fire, Liz? Or is he still keeping that information from you?”

Ripping her arm from his grasp, she retorted back, “And what would you know of second chances?” 

Her voice faltered as her words brought back vivid memories of the first day she ever met Red. “But if anyone can give me a second chance it’s you. The two of us have overcome so much.”

“You’re far worse than Reddington. Hell, Tom. I don’t even know your REAL name. Who are you really?!? You criminals are all notorious liars. He told me that he was the one that hired you, and that you then had the audacity to double cross him and go to work for Berlin, of all people. Too bad YOU didn’t have the decency to tell me that.”

Tom looked at Lizzie and muttered, “Jacob. Jacob Phelps.” 

“What?” Lizzie questioned.

“My name. My real name is Jacob Phelps. Are you happy now?!” he snarled.

“Honestly, I really don’t give a damn anymore, Tom or Jacob, or whatever the HELL your name is. I’m so sick and tired of this runaround, this back and forth. I really wish I’d let Reddington kill you that day, or finished you off myself. I can only imagine how much less stressful my life would be right now if I had. Gah, if only I hadn’t needed you to get to Berlin, I would have killed you on that boat,” she confessed. 

“Is that … is that how you really feel, Liz? After all this time, you’d rather see me dead?” Lizzie could see the pain in Tom’s eyes, but didn’t care, not anymore.

“At this point in time, yes.” She felt a sense of relief. Relief that she had finally told Tom exactly how she felt. All the feelings that she had stored up inside her bubbled to the surface, like a pot of boiling water on a hot stove; the betrayal, the lies, the knowledge that she had been married, for two years, to a liar and a double agent. If anyone was ruining her life, it wasn’t Reddington … it was Tom. 

He just shook his head. “I think it’s time for me to leave.” After a moment, when he looked deep into her eyes, as if he couldn’t quite believe what she’d just told him to do, Tom seemed to realize that she meant exactly what she’d said and, finally he turned to leave. He stopped for a moment and without turning around, spoke over his shoulder, “You know Liz, no matter what happens, you can call me. I’ll help whenever I can. Thanks again for the passports.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes at him. “Just go already. I’ve got more important things to deal with right now. And do me a favor, please, don’t come back!”

Lizzie finally had the solitude she was so desperately seeking. She paced back and forth thinking, fuming. 

“What the hell does he know of second chances? What a bastard! Our whole marriage was one huge lie. Reddington has NEVER lied to me. Sure, he may have given me half-truths here and there, mere breadcrumbs at times that eventually led to me finding the answers I needed, but never an outright lie. That’s how Reddington works; he gives you the bare scraps and leaves you to figure out the rest. It helped me become a better profiler, being able to see these cases from the criminal’s point of view as well as the cop’s. He told me that everything about him was a lie, though. I wonder how much of that is the ‘truth’?” 

“Are you in love with Reddington?” Tom’s question kept creeping back into Lizzie’s mind. 

“Am I? Do I love him? How can I love a man that I hate beyond words? Is it true that love and hate are two sides of the same coin? He hired Tom and placed him in my life. He has led so many other bad people into my life. How many times has he put me in the line of fire? How many MORE times is he going to let me walk right into danger? Yet, he has been the only one there to ‘rescue’ me. The Stewmaker, the night at the Embassy, Braxton … He has always been there. He’s always put himself at danger’s doorstep to protect me. He told me once that he believed he would always do whatever he felt he had to do to keep me alive. When everything went to shit with Tom, he was there. Despite everything, I feel I can trust him. I CAN trust him. I DO trust him. 

She stood for a long time and absorbed this thought. It soaked slowly through her very being and settled in her core; in her heart and soul.

“He’s the only thing that has left me feeling sane, left me feeling grounded … left me feeling … loved. When I lost … Sam … I lost the person who loved me the most. Now, Red is all that I really have left in my life. I don’t know if I want to know what happened the night of that fire. Do I really NEED to know? What would it change in the end? I have Red. I feel so different around him. I feel … special.” 

“Oh, I think you’re very special.” He had had such a twinkle in his eyes when he said those words; the conversation from her first meeting with Red crept into her mind again. She felt her cheeks burn slightly; she knew she was blushing.

She looked down at her phone. It was nearing 9pm now. She had met with Red over four hours ago. She looked up at the stars and just gazed. “Whoever did this, I will find them. I WILL find them, and they WILL pay!!!”


	4. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the characters. I just love them! :)

Lizzie walked to the Mercedes, that had since been removed from the interior of the warehouse, and opened the back door to what was now a cleaned back seat; there was no evidence of blood, and no sign that an injured person had been riding in it earlier in the day. It looked like it had just been driven off the showroom floor. She smiled knowing that Mr. Kaplan had ‘taken care of business’. 

She climbed in and tried to get comfortable. She looked around for any sign that Reddington had ever been in the car and her eyes fell on his navy blue fedora, which he had been sporting earlier that day, now lying on the back window ledge; she had managed to grab it, and the box that had the Fulcrum in it, as she scurried to the car during the shootout. Now, she snatched it and gripped it tightly, just as a child would hold their treasured prized stuffed toy during a thunderstorm. 

Finally, in her solitude, she could no longer hold back the tears. She knew fighting it would be frivolous so she gave in, crying quietly. After some time, now exhausted, she fell asleep. However, her dreams were anything but pleasant and restful; flashbacks of almost all of the missions she and Red had been on together, especially the bad ones, the ones that ended in someone being shot, stabbed, or killed, rolled like an endless film replaying over and over in her mind. 

Lizzie jolted awake, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, to hear the sound of her cell phone ringing. In a groggy haze she saw that it was Dembe. “Hello?! Dembe? What’s going on? Is he ok?” 

“He’s out of surgery.” Dembe sounded tired.

Trying to wake up and kick her mind back into gear again she said, “Do you … does he … do I … should I … I be there when he wakes up?” She was having the hardest time putting any of her thoughts into words, let alone full cohesive sentences. 

“Elizabeth, that’s your choice … but yes, I really think that you should be here.” Dembe sounded insistent.

Doubt crept in and placed its uneasy hand on her shoulder. “Why would he want to see me, Dembe?” Her mind had finally started working again, but the thoughts were swirling around in her head like a whirlpool. “I told him so many hurtful things right before he was shot. He knows how mad I am … or was.” There was silence on the other end. She shook her head. “I’ll be there soon, I promise; I just need some coffee to wake up.” She stretched, yawned again and looked down at her phone; she saw that it was just past midnight. 

After getting a cup of so-called coffee at a shop on the corner, Lizzie returned to the warehouse. She walked slowly through the first set of double doors, and down the long hallway, which was also papered with plastic sheeting. The closer she got to the recovery area the more nervous she felt. All she could think about was the many harsh and hurtful things that she had said to Red in the past, most out of anger and confusion. “Go to Hell, we’re through!” kept replaying in her head over and over again. 

“How could Red ever love me after the way I’ve treated him?” She contemplated. “He deserves someone better than me. I’m nothing special.” 

“Oh, I think you are VERY special.” 

That simple phrase, those few words, ran through her mind once again. She felt her face getting warm as it had earlier when she had thought about those words, and once more it was not out of anger, but out of sheer embarrassment. She knew that she should not feel this way about him. This was a dangerous path to walk. She feared that it would only end with more pain and heartbreak. She feared the end, losing him; that very thought sent a chill down her spine. 

She stood in front of the opening to the makeshift plastic door. Waiting, she half expected to hear Red say something like, “Come in, my dear.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then entered the area. Dembe was sitting at Red’s bedside watching the machines tick away, as they fed his employer’s body full of painkillers and saline. Much to Lizzie’s surprise, Red was only hooked up to one IV pole and the machine monitoring his vitals, with his oxygen being provided by a simple nasal cannula. Dembe looked up at her, tired, yet happy, in his own straight-faced way. He appeared to have been meditating, before her arrival, as he was more quiet than normal, if that was possible. Dembe was never much of a talker, especially to her. 

“Go get something to eat, or grab a cup of coffee Dembe. I’ll stay here for now.” 

Dembe stood, and Lizzie slowly walked over to where he had been seated and pulled the chair to the bedside until it was touching the sheet that covered Red. Dembe gave her a nod and left the curtained area. She observed him do one last sweep of the immediate area before he left; she assumed it was to ensure that all was well. 

Red was sitting almost upright and was clearly still sedated. She started a conversation, in the hopes that he would just wake up and retort back with one of his signature witty one-liners. She just wanted him to open his eyes and talk to her; she needed to hear his voice again. 

“Wake up, dammit!” She could feel her anger starting to surface again. If he died she would quite possibly never know the answers to the questions she still had. She might never know why he’d inserted himself into her life and turned it upside down. She had a right to know. “This isn’t supposed to be happening. You’re Raymond ‘Red’ Reddington. You can’t get hurt like this. You’re not supposed to be at death’s door. Damn you, Red! … Why have you turned my life upside down? … What am I to you?!? … Just stop it all!! … Or … Go to HELL! … Go to…” Her words trailed off, with tears welling up in her eyes, she softly grabbed his tired, worn hand and caressed it with her trembling fingers. She took a few deep, calming breaths; then her tone softer now, she said, “There’s still so much that we need to do, too many questions yet unanswered … I NEED …” 

Her voice caught in her throat again, and like a dam breaking, her tears flooded down her soft pale cheeks. She laid her face onto the blankets, weeping, and her heart felt like it had been sundered in two. She burrowed her face further into the blankets, trying to muffle the sounds. 

She sobbed bitterly, her heart shredded by grief and all-consuming frustration. She lifted her head just enough to look at him and whispered, “Don’t you dare leave me Reddington, I can’t do this without you … I need you … I … I … love … you … I love you Raymond Reddington.” It was at that moment that Lizzie realized that saying she loved him was the clearest, most truthful thing that had come out of her mouth in months.

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fan-fiction that I have uploaded anywhere. I am a Lizzington Shipper all the way. :) Enjoy.
> 
> Thank you to my amazing Beta Team: thefirstfewchapters and almcvay1! You guys Rock!! <3


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